I am Brown
by rubyraven084
Summary: He is always goofy and naive but not much of his past is revealed to his companions... What is John really is?


DISCLAIMER: This is the second time I write a fanfiction and I totally DO NOT OWN Ghost Hunt…

This a tribute to my sister in Auckland, Eli and to my fanfic addict friend Saiduck…

Chapter 1. Blue windmills tells too much stories

My name is Brown. I have just entered junior high school in an urban district of Australia. It is a new world to me, as I had been kept in the church for too long and suddenly is given freedom to 'breathe new air' as Father McKenzie demonstrated with breath in gesture; Father McKenzie has always had a different way of approach on his disciples. And yes, I never think twice before rejecting the idea of a public school; be it all-boys, all girls (is that even possible?), co-ed (I thought I was not suppose to mingle with love…) or private school (hmm, I'll think about it…)

On the first registration day (I made it into private school, yippee!), Sister Victoria insist that I wrap my neck with her hand-made (monstrous!) green knitted shawl.

"Comfy!" I exclaimed in gratitude as Sister Victoria coiled, I mean wrapped the shawl around my delicate neck; a proud look written upon her face. In my mind, a few strategies were planned to get rid of the hideous fabric immediately. I must admit, among all the priestess I've grown up with, Victoria is the closest and understanding among them all, almost to the point that it has become annoying. Be still, John. You are stepping into 'New World'. Haha! Bye-bye Victoria~

The excitement in me made me wave a massive good-byes' to my fellow colleague, including Father McKenzie which can be visibly seen wiping his face with a brown handkerchief; a Father's Day gift from me back in five years ago. Something tightened in my chest and suddenly I am not all excited anymore. When I look back again, Father McKenzie has disappeared replaced by Sister Victoria tear-stricken face, holding up a manila card written with a message "If I found out U mess 'round, I'm gonna strangle Ur neck 'til it turn into Jell-O!"

Four hours of crappy journey and my distance to the private school cannot even be counted with my existing fingers. I wish I had six on each, that'll be enough. Outside, the rain is pouring hard as the car entered Milles Bourn Town. On the left rear window, I see a farmer chasing his cows and sheep to the shed. At far centre of the field stood a modest mill, its wheel swirling round and round to the flow of the storm. I sighed and leaned my head on the seat in a comfortable position, not long after that I drowse to sleep. The sound of the wind outside whistled me strange lullaby that can only be made by faeries of Grimm's.

A streak of sun shone directly on my eyelids which made my eyes burn like hell that I blink them open in the nick of time.

"Finally decided to open your bloody eyes, have you?" What a manner-less question to ask to a tired and fragile boy like me. Feeling annoyed, I scorned at the driver whom was whistling emotionally to Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" on the radio. What an attitude; after throwing sarcasm on a future-to- be priest. The driver, noticing the unpleasant looks upon the young priest's face felt the need to ask him.

"Good afternoon, Sir! Anything's bothering you? Are you hungry, we can stop by the restaurant to grab some lunch?" grinned the driver, while his attention still fixed to the muddy road lay upfront.

No answer.

The old man's re-positioned his grip on the wheels uncomfortably. Okay, he is not hungry then. The corner of his eyes caught a glimpse of Brown's feature which is so dark that the old man's heart almost lost a beat. Oh my god, he is so creepy. Please answer my prayer, My Lord and make my journey faster!

"You scared the hell out of him good time."

Again. This time I can clearly hear the nature of the voice. It is slightly youthful to be the driver's voice and too mischievous to be my inner voice (I am a serious person; believe it or not I have no hobby of scaring myself off)

"Who are you?" I bravely whisper to the unseen entity. Could this be my first ghost encounter? Please not, I am not ready for this, I need Taylor Swift! Immediately my fingers fumbled over the zip bag for something fluffy inside and when finally did, clung it tightly around my abdomen like a charm. The pink rabbit in jumper suit rustled lifelessly in my arm; its ear bouncing up and down due to the bumpy road.

Hey, I'm safe now ain't I. Taylor's here. She'll protect me; her beauty will divert the ghost from harming me. The silence that filled the car was sudden and unbeknownst to me, streaks of sweat started squeezing down my forehead and neck.

"Haha, you're hilarious! A strange boy indeed you are." Great. A gust of wind suddenly blowing inside the car despite the bone chilling air conditioner and the tightly shut windows… Suddenly the idea of me sweating like a pig in the seat becomes more terrifying than the unearthly voice that has been harassing me for the last 53 minutes.

PAUSED!

The vehicle stopped abruptly, throwing the driver and Brown to the front. Luckily their inertia is not enough to make them crack their head open on the screen. After regaining his consciousness, Mr. Driver fixed his cap on his half-bald head, his mouth formed into a thin line; a signature of a polite angry man.

"Sir Brown, could you explain to me what you are trying to put on?" I am speechless. I mean, Mr. Driver's face is red enough to color the rainbow outside (the red streak is a bit pale)

"I-I don't. I don't mean it to you, Sir. There was someone talking, interrupting my meditation. Since you're the only one with me in this car, I assumed…" I trailed off, not daring to continue my word. Mr. Driver lost interest in my explanation that he resumes his attention to the wheel with a heavy sigh but did not ignite the car engine. The old man hands wander off to the passenger's seat at his side and took out a lunch box and hand it to the back; motioning me to take it. Oh. Lunch box with Barbie at a Slumber Party design. Very pink and stylish indeed.

"Eat them. My daughter made it for me this morning so you better lick every corner of the box." He said with unexplainable threat punctuation on the last seven words, while his right finger fumbling inside his pocket for a lighter whereas the left finger a cigarette close to his graying lips. I nodded my head vigorously without much decline.

Finishing off the lunch, I made a silent 'burp' and give my thanks to God for the food He had given me. I was hungry and that explains why I hallucinates my conversation with the unearthly voice.

"Hee, you're strange." Not again. Shut up! I knock my head with my knuckles twenty-three times. "-and not to mention, crazy too." This is too much. I might go for private mental hospital. I was about to roll down the window when suddenly a thin arm stretched just below my chin pressed against the window so hard that the screen won't go down. I try harder but a loud screeching sound came out as a result of the rubber clamping tightly on the glass slipping; deafening my left ear to a critical stage in the process.

"Greetings, I am Rob."

My eyes widened in almost sucking in my eyeballs when the boy under my nose grinned sheepishly _at me_. My hands wander off to the seat, searching for Taylor Swift…


End file.
